Shadowplay
by rufe
Summary: Sequel to Final Fantasy Tactics. The first chapter symmarizes the story. What should be done with the "truth"?
1. Prologue part one

Shadow-play  
  
By Rufe  
  
Disclaimer: Final Fantasy Tactics and all associated material are the property of Square Soft (I.E. not me)  
  
Prologue  
  
_I am Alazlam, a scholor of ancient Ivalician history...  
  
You have all heard of the Durai Report, yes? That was my study of several years past.  
  
It contained the story of Ramza and his part in the Lion War. The "truth" behind the Lion War.  
  
Have any of you ever wondered what transpired after the War? Of course, you all know that the period of time I am referring to was called the Inquisition. This contained a double meaning. During this period of time the church, having lost much of its power, worked to bring "heretics" to "justice". Olan Durai's death was a result of the turmoil of this time.  
  
The second meaning behind the name was the sudden burst of people questioning their beliefs. Kings, mercenaries, wizards, and even priests were driven to question the truth many things previously taken for granted. Some chose to pursue the "truth" while others attempted to hide it for the sake of the common good. Both were hero's, in their own right, and both had their faults.  
  
This was, finally the time of the terrifying return of forbidden sorcery This return elected the battle of "good" and "evil" that has become known as the shadowplay, of which Ramza and his company were a part. Because of the nature of this battle, it has long been thought to have been connected to the Inquisition.  
  
Here is the "truth"... In my studies of the Durai report, I stumbled across the diary of the peasant King Delita Hyral. It contains the seemingly unrelated beginnings of both these periods, and the part our heros played in both battles._  
  
"Despite my seemingly cruel role in this story, I wish it to be known that it was all in the interest of the people of my realm. Ramza was a great hero...and my friend and I only ever said his name with reverence and respect."  
—— Delita Hyral  
5 N. A.

* * *

(the calendar system is NA counting the time since Delita's crowning)  
  
(The "truth" thing is from Alazlams speech at the beginning of the game. He always puts the truth in quotations) 


	2. Prologue part two, Agrias, Delita, and O...

...Delita's eyes widened in surprise as Ovelia's Dagger plunged into his stomach.

"O...Ovelia?!:

Shock clouded Delita's mind, so that he saw Ovelia's mouth move, but heard no sound.

"...now you'll kill me, just like you did Ramza!"

He'd heard _that_. In a fit of rage, Delita yanked the dagger out

I'm bleeding quicker now, some part of his mind noted. Not much time thought as he plunged the dagger into Ovelia's side.

_Not much time for what?_ He wondered, _Oh God, what have I done._

"Ramza...What did you get? I..."

Dimly he noticed the blood pooling around his feet and wondered why he hadn't noticed it before.

"Guards!" He called, "Is any one there?"

A female knight rounded the corner hurriedly.

"Yes, Your Grace?"

"Agri...Lady Deveri"

_I must have lost a lot of blood to come that close…_

As his eyes finally focused, they seemed to be very stubborn; he got a strong urge to laugh out loud.

The mighty holy knight, Agrias Oaks, was dressed in the frilly garb of a minor Ivalician noble. A long dress of fine brown wool with silk slashes of navy blue, and forest green hemmed with gold, supposedly her house colors, ran from her left shoulder.

The signal of her house, an acorn nestled in two oak leaves upon a field of gold, rested upon her left breast.

An unfelt breeze seemed to play upon her hair and dress as she moved through the steps of a healing spell.

(Mighty breeze, heal down from the sky…Cure—IV)

When she finished, warmth flooded into Delita, blossoming in his chest. The sensation us much like to drinking something warm on a cold day.

The **Glow** pulsed with life and his skin grew over the wound.

The shock of what had happened, the physical shock of the pain, and the shock of the rapid healing all took their toll, and began to drive consciousness from Delita's body.

_Why? _Delita asked of no one in particular.

Just before darkness claimed him, he realized he already knew the answer…

* * *

Agrias Oaks picked up her fallen King and headed toward the royal palace.

_How did I come to be here, carrying the man who killed Ovelia to a healer?_ She wondered.

At the thought of Ovelia, she felt a pang of grief, but shoved it aside.

_Later, I'll grieve_

When Ramza and his sister had gone into hiding, Agrias had felt an overwhelming desire to return to her duties, guarding Ovelia.

Delita had been loath to take her service. He was no fool and understood that without the support of the church, his young monarchy would not be able to hold onto his kingdom. Taking in a "heretic" like herself would be the ultimate slight to the Galbados Church.

With Ovelia's help, however, she had managed to convince Delita to take her under her current guise.

Her alias was Mercia Deveri, the third Daughter of the lord Deveri, land therefore in no way likely to inherit his estates. Her house was a minor one, and the false nobility was not challenged, mostly because so many noble families existed in Ivalice.

Her house colors were blue and gold, the colors of a Holy Knight, and green to match her house's signal.

The signal itself was of her own design to honor her true family, and she had named it the "Mothers Embrace" because the acorn was the child of the Oak.

Supposedly she had come to pay homage to her new king, in the place of her father, and she had ended up befriending the Queen.

The story allowed her to be near Ovelia to protect her without arising suspicion.

Even with the complex lie prepared, she was sure Delita would refuse her, until Ovelia had specifically begged it of him.

Agrias had noted that his resistance had crumbled at Ovelia's request.

Either he loves her in truth…or he was a besotted fool, and Delita had proven himself no fool.

_That is why I'm carrying him. Because he loves my ward, but then why…"_

Upon arriving at the Royal palace she watched the guard at the gate's eyes grow wide. He probably had never seen a _delicate _lady carrying a grown man before.

Depositing her king on the ground with the guard, she headed back to the ruins.

_I've failed both of you, _she thought with a sigh, _I couldn't protect Ovelia from Delita, or Delita from himself._

Her duties finished, Agrias's grief returned in earnest. She felt as though part of her heart had been cut out, but somehow…she couldn't quite fathom that, Ovelia, her friend and ward since their youth, was dead. Shock numbed the pain and stilled the tears.

Upon reaching the site of Ovelia's death, she found that Ovelia's body was gone.

"Who…" she began angrily, but then she saw that Delita's decorative gold armor, she had been forced to remove it to carry him, remained.

_Brigands would surely take that gold…_

Even though the night was warm, Agrias shivered.

* * *

If I made and errors with the incantations, Diologue, Etc. tell me. Also, If ANYBODY can tell me how to preserve the formatting when I upload PLEASE, please, please...tell me how!


	3. Prologue part three, Ramza and Alma

Leagues away from Igros and the Royal Palace, in the land of Ordalia, there are great expanses of rural land. Green is the predominant color in this landscape, unlike in the crowded cities in Ivalice. Each day, before the sun rises, there can be seen farmers tending to the land. A casual observer would notice several families of rather nondescript people living their rather unremarkable lives, however one of the quaint little cottages that dotted the landscape housed people who were anything but ordinary.

"Brother Ramza?!:

A young girl, barley twenty, padded softly through a field of barley. Her hair flared a brilliant gold as the sun began to cross the horizon.

"Ramza? Where are you?" she called.

"Over here, Alma!" a youthful tenor responded.

Alma hurried through the sun-kissed field instinctively making her way toward her brother's favorite place.

Trotting through the various patches of vegetables that she called her own she hurried until she came to the edge of a glorious meadow. The meadow had been the reason her brother had been so insistent on choosing this spot to make their home. It went on, seemingly forever, over the horizon. Flowers of every color imaginable dotted the landscape and somehow there always seemed to be flowers blooming, regardless of the season, or time of day. Even having lived in Ivalice all her life, Alma had never seen anything quite so magical.

The pitter-patter of her feet quickened as she hurried through the brilliant wildflowers to the most prominent landmark in the area. An evergreen tree of some sort, which neither she, nor her brother, nor anybody else who lived in the area, could identify. It towered over even the tallest of trees, and according to the families that had lived there for generations, had existed practically since the dawn of time. Rounding the edge of the tree, Alma did her best to look stern.

"Ramza! You promised that you would help me prepare our packs. You want to make Igros by the end of the month, don't you?"

Ramza turned around to face his sister, and made a valiant attempt to pacify her.

"We still have some time. An hour here or there, won't change when we arrive by much. I can finish watching the sunrise can't I?"

Alma opened her mouth, but realized that her brother was too engrossed in the landscape to hear what she would say. As the sun crossed the horizon she was forced to squint against the intense light as she seethed at her brother.

'He'll _never_ change!' she raged to herself, but then felt her anger deflate rapidly. Her brother had already changed. Even though he was as innocent seeming and as kindhearted as he was in his childhood, there was a tightness about the eyes, and wrinkles spider-webbed across his forehead in a way that had been absent before. Not for the first time Alma wondered if it might be better to forget that the last few years had happened. To live out the rest of their lives in this peaceful place… She knew it was impossible, but it was a beautiful dream. To do so would mean to forget who they were and, more practically, the Galabados church had somehow enlisted the help of the usually neutral Ordalian army. It wouldn't be long until she and Ramza were discovered if they remained. Ivalice, however, was in turmoil. In it's current state it wouldn't be difficult for two non-descript individuals to escape notice until things died down in Ordalia.

Alma watched as the sky glowed with orange and red. The clouds burned as the sun crossed the horizon and finally took its place in the sky.

Ramza got up from his spot and turned to Alma.

"Okay, lets go"

* * *

Authors Note: I'm sorry for the long period of time between updates. I'm taking AP classes and am really involved with other things. I look forward to your reviews (Hint Hint) and I will try to update more frequently for those who care at all. The next chapter is nearly done, but it's just like the second half of this one. 


	4. Prologue, part three, Blacker than Night

Hey, I'm BACK! Wow, I was gone a long time...So, if you look in my profile you will see that I started a webcomic, and that that, combined with school and music, was taking up most of my time. I plan to try to update this with my webcomic, about once a week or so, so that I don't forget about it (like I did...)

Anyway, this is part one with Meg, I plan to add a second part later this week.

* * *

Meg leaned against his desk, basking in the beauty of his study.

More than his study…this was his _grove_, the little patch of life that he had special affinity to. The only way to it from civilization existed in the form of an invisible portal that rested before him.

The grove itself was unusual, for it wasn't a grove at all (as was traditional with more orthodox druids). Instead, rolling grassland stretched in all directions as far as the eye could see. Running through was a narrow brook and behind Meg towered a beautiful tree. Other trees dotted the landscape occasionally. Walnut, Elm, Maple, Oak, and every other kind of tree imaginable were represented.

Reflecting on his grove, Meg frowned. Of course, this wasn't his true grove…The place that he had truly bonded with was in Ordalia, near the border, but for security reasons he had been forced to recreate his beloved place here, nestled between impassible mountains. The land had been bare, but Meg had cultivated it magically until it exploded with life.

Meg got up from the flat rock that served as his desk as he sensed a presence enter his portal. Of average height and slender build, Med cut an unimposing figure, but appearances deceived. Meg had been trained to defend himself both magically and physically, for his job was a dangerous one.

Despite his love of nature, Meg had entered civilization to become a scholar. His other loves were Alchemy, Philosophy, Music, and Linguistics. Despite his youth, he was a sage, one of the ruling council of mages that regulated magic in the world, and a teacher of higher level magic at the academy, that trained the students of schools like Gariland into true master mages. Of course, on the ruling council he was the third sage, the least amongst equals, but at the tender age of 17 that was still a fantastic feat.

Meg's dark face lit up with a bright smile as he saw one of his students enter through the portal. As the young man stepped through the portal once again disappeared into oblivion.

This student had the most potential of any that Meg had been assigned to mentor. He showed brilliance in everything he tried. The only problem was, where other students threw them selves into everything and anything to find what they loved and excelled in, this student, Drekal, seemed to have little interest in finding his calling. The source of Meg's delight was the small sash he carried that meant that he had chosen a calling. The sash would be used to tie the robes of his order, once it had been transformed by one of the order into the characteristic color and pattern.

"So, you've finally chosen?" Meg inquired, barely able to keep the excitement from his voice. He and Drekal were of almost the same age, and he felt it was appropriate to be informal with him.

"Yes…" Drekal muttered from under his pristine white robes

_Not white much longer _Meg thought excitedly _unless, I suppose, he chose the Healers…_

Meg Cast onto himself and his companion the spell of binding. Any decision made under this spell was, if not unbreakable, decisive oath, that would that would instill in someone the authority of the Order.

"And what is your choice?" Meg asked, his voice more serious

"I have chosen…The order…opposite your own," Drekal whispered.

Meg's eyes widened in shock. He was, of course, of all orders as his position as Sage. Each group he represented was dedicated to the pursuit of Knowledge, Beauty, Art, Life, and even Spiritual fulfillment. To choose _other_ than every known order was to choose…

"Black…" Meg hissed, his already down turning eyebrows drawing together in anger, and an uncharacteristic snarl flying to his lips. "You wish to choose the order of black, that seek to better understand the world other than this one."

"Yes..." Drekal said again, in a stronger voice this time

"You know, of course, the nature of this order? Once they were a great order, seeking to completely understand the spirit, soul, and mind. But then, they met a great divide. Those that continued that noble quest joined the guild of no colors. The order that wears no sash, and those that chose to manipulate and torment spirits chose the order of Black…"

"Yes!" Drekal said, with fire in his voice

"And do you chose, this order, Drekal Seil'an? Do you choose to forsake all that you learned here, to seek power, and only power in your life?"

"YES!" Drekal cried, almost ecstatically.

"Then I will grant your wish" Meg said calmly. He took the sash and sent it drifting through the air. As it drifted gently to the earth, he barked a word of command and the sash turned black. Blacker than black, for black can have shades, but this black had no shade, no color at all in it. It seemed to absorb all light around it into oblivion.

"So you have chosen" Meg finished, closing the spell of binding "so you shall live…

You must leave here within the hour. As with all students, the First Sage shall be notified of your choice. Your order is, of course, not welcome in our halls, or in this grove" he added, "if you come here…She will drive you away"

Drekal smiled and turned away, his robes changing color as he did so.

"I…thank you, Sage. Fare you well"

Meg frowned after him

"I hope you know what you're looking for," he whispered.


	5. gomen minna, iiwake muyo dakedo

Sorry guys like on my web-comic I'm slacking here. Wrote a new chapter, had it deleted, and gave up until next week . . I probably should just re-write while it's fresh in my head, but anyway, I'll post the real chapter soon, in any case the original version of the chapter was pretty buggy so it should be better this time around anyway.


	6. Prologue, part four, The Light of Day

Meg hurried through the corridors. The policy was that the first Sage be informed by writing of each student's choice within two weeks of their choice, but he was sure that she'd forgive his breach of the rules.

His footsteps quickened as he neared her door. Throwing aside the ornately carved oaken doors he stepped in determinedly

"Sage, I'm sorry to intrude but…" he blushed scarlet and slammed the doors shut.

"I'm terribly sorry Sage, I had no idea…"

The doors burst open behind him. As the first sage approached him, he noted with a grimace that her mind was closed this time.

"What is so important that you must interrupt me while I am reflecting?" She asked angrily.

The Sage was not a particularly imposing woman, just as Meg was not a particularly imposing man. She was middle-aged, with a motherly face that seemed ageless. Her hair was tied up in a tight bun behind her head, and had just started showing the slightest hints of gray, probably from stress. Again, though, appearances were deceiving. Underneath her gentle exterior she was a kniving politician. Though she sincerely was a kind woman she was willing to do almost anything to keep the magic in the world in check. She stood more than a head shorter than Meg, but somehow was managing to drive him up against the wall in the hallway.

"I'm…I'm…" Meg tried again. There was no doubt that the Sage was immensely angry. What he had walked in on was a reflection, a method by which a mage could project their very thoughts and feelings around them to study their own mind. It was a useful tool for sorting out feelings, and for observing patterns that might otherwise have been missed, but it also revealed everything about a person to anybody who observed it. In those brief moments that he saw the First Sage reflecting, Meg had probably learned more about the sage than she would have revealed in years.

Finally recovering his composure Meg managed to calm his stuttering. "I assure you sage, it is a matter of such importance, that I would be tempted to interrupt again, given the chance."

The First Sage calmed as the gravity of his statement dawned on her. "Well then, you'd better come in." she said.

As they crossed the doorway the Sage began erasing the representations of her thoughts from the room. Meg squirmed nervously as each figment of her mind disappeared one by one.

"So, Meg, what brings you here?" the Sage asked more calmly.

"Airith, you know I can't respond to that" Meg said with a smile "there are procedures"

Airith sighed "I never could get the better of you, even when you were my student…"

Meg smiled fondly and cast another spell that would make anything that they did an official action as ruling members of the magical world.

"A student has chosen his order, First Sage, Guardian of the Flow, Keeper of the…"

"Oh skip all that, it's not strictly required anyway" Airith interrupted, "_this _is what was so important?"

"You didn't let me finish" Meg replied, exasperated, "The student Drekal has chosen the noble order of the black" he finished, releasing the spell.

Suddenly all around him magic flared. In her distress the Sage had lost all control of the figments of her mind that remained to be erased (the least embarrassing figments), and all were replaced with pure emotions. Distress, anger, sadness, mortification, one after another assailed Meg until he could take it no longer. Raising his hands he overpowered the Sage and cut off all of her power.

"Some nerve you have" Airith muttered wresting her power free of Meg "That's not allowed, you know"

Meg smiled, glad that she was back to her senses. "I believe that it would be deemed necessary by any inquiry."

"Hmm, I suppose you're right…but this does present a pretty little problem for us doesn't it? The last mage to choose black took out nearly 10 of our order before we stopped him, either by killing or by severing. We will want to take immediate action…

ahh, but we have another factor this time don't we?" she muttered slyly

"What is that, Sage?" Meg asked, genuinely confused.

"Why the zodiac brave, of course, and a king who was his childhood friend" Airith smiled demonically. Despite the fact that her skills had retained the balance of power in the world many times, her devious mind often frightened Meg.

"Hmm, I see what you mean" Meg said pensively "of course, he's not dead, though the Ivalician King and the Galabados Church would have us think that.

Simple minded fools, how could they know that one amongst us has the ancient skill to sense the truth in words…" He looked meaningfully at Airith.

"Yes, once again he must be the light to banish the darkness. His purpose doesn't end with the purging of deamons, oh no," Airith smiled again "He has a much greater responsibility than that, though he seems to be neglecting it…

Meg, I have a favor to ask of you"

Meg sighed, he could tell what was coming "because of my druidic abilities, by their nature meshed in the full and endless cycle of life, you wish me to be the agent to gather forces to combat Drekal" he said flatly "I am to gather the warriors who follow the brave, who are scattered throughout the world so that not even the church can find them, and prepare them to face what they will. Am I correct?" he asked.

"Ahh Meg, you know me too well" Airith smiled "Have a fair journey and…" her face grew serious "be careful Meg, I will have need of you again after you complete this task"

Meg smiled in a comforting way "We shall meet again, Sage" he assured "that is a promise"

* * *

A.N.

Sever-to cut off from one's magical powers .

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	7. Prologue, part five, Mustadio

Yay, review response corner, for my first (kind of) negative review (I like these types of reviews better if they're constructive, so feel free to go nuts)

Anyway, about the story line…I believe that Delita does hate Ramza at the end of Chapter one, but as the game progresses I believe that this hatred dimmed. He seems to have stopped blaming Ramza personally for Teta's death. As the game progresses, Delita opposes everything that Ramza fought to uphold, but this comes at a time when Ramza is also forced to question the society that he lived in. I think Delita is trying to change the world in a big way. He seems self-serving, and I'm sure that this played a role in his actions too, but for the most part, his overarching goal seems to be a major social reform. He disagrees with Ramza often, uses Ramza all the time, and at times is even opponents with Ramza, but I think that he still respects Ramza's own way of trying to fix things, though he disagrees with them, and perhaps a small part of him still thinks that things could be solved within the system. Ramza's naivety seems to have a way of drawing people in . I think the script supports my theory…(http/db. I do refer to the script often

Also, if you had read the next few chapters you'd have seen that there are a lot of politics at work here. Delita's going to be controlled by politics if he wants to keep his power. I think it's ironic that he's going to be forced to play the game that he fought so hard to destroy, but he's already playing in the (video) game…once he's king it'll be all the more necessary.

Anyways, short chapter, but I like this better than most of the previous ones.

* * *

Mustadio wiped the sweat off his brow…or at least…he tried. All he really succeeded in doing was smearing more grease on it. He had been truly lucky to return to Goug, he decided. The vast number of eccentric engineers there meant that one more could easily escape notice, and Mustadio truly loved his work. 

"There you go!" he said brightly, "all done."

Worker 8 turned around and gazed at him solemnly.

"Acknowledged" he…she?…responded.

Mustadio laughed, a carefree boyish laugh that many found attractive, and poked Worker 8 in the side, earning himself a sore finger.

"Well, you were the one that was whining that your exhaust ducts were getting clogged!" he accused.

"Negative, I merely advised that a repair would be advisable for me to continue working at peak efficiency"

Mustadio sighed, it had been interesting living with this semi-sentient hunk of metal, but sometimes it could be tiring. Not only was he not the best company in the world, but Mustadio had to be careful to keep him hidden. Worker 8 was the only think in his workshop that could give away his former life. Mustadio shook his head, not former life…real life. It was impossible for him to think of his life here in Goug as real now that he knew everything…

"Come-on!" he said lightly, "let's go!"

Worker 8 looked at him confusedly, the only real emotion that ever showed on his mechanical face (though he insisted that it was just Mustadio's imagination).

"Go?.." he asked monotonously.

"Yep!" Mustadio answered, "I think we should visit Ramza!"

Worker 8 would have sighed if he had lungs. What a typically Mustadio type decision, spur of the moment, not thinking things through. Living with humans could truly be tiring…


	8. Prologue, part 6, Olan and Cid

Review corner :

Sorry for missing so many updates…PSATS…SATS…performances…Halloween XD

Anyway, regarding Meg, yes he has a purpose. If we were to analyze this story, he'd play the role of the "guide", just he hasn't yet. I wanted him to be young so that the "guide" would be less of a guide, per se, and more of a traveling companion.

In short, he will be one of the most important characters in the story. I considered making his portion of the prologue last, but I decided it would be better to jam him in the middle so that the story doesn't flow from him to the familiar characters…anyway…it's on purpose.

Regarding his name…it IS feminine. To be honest, Meg's original name was a Japanese name with the same Kanji as my name…but I decided a more western name was better for this type of story. I dug around…and I role played a elf named Meglalaen on Everquest…so thus "Meg" was born U

Wow…what a way to make a name…

* * *

Cid read and reread the letter again. It had been so long since he'd heard from Olan... 

One passage in particular stuck out in his mind above all the rest however.

_Father, the state of things here do not bode well for my project. I fear I must work in utmost secrecy. I ask that you might send me a copy of your journals, which I know you have kept for many years. In particular, those of the last several years._

_I hope against hope that the time until I can expect a response is not too long. I grow weary of your absence, and these letters are one of my few remaining joys._

_Respectfully,_

_Olan_

Cid felt his heart swell with fatherly pride at Olan's noble endeavor, while at the same time he felt a chill of misgiving. Olan's passion to create an accurate record of the Lion War for future generations was a noble one, but the church's recent aggressive persecution of heretics made it an equally dangerous one.

Cid rose with a sigh. There was no carrier he could trust to deliver such sensitive documents, nor was there any scribe he could trust to copy them. He had kept detailed records of everything from political intrigue (often involving the new king) to Ramza's actions, all the way down to the records of military expenditures. On the other hand, he couldn't just waltz into the imperial city and hand Olan the documents in person either. T.G. Cid was supposed to be dead, and Olan was only alive because there was no blood relation between them.

Ah well Cid thought as he set the last of the booklets that made up his journal. I'll figure something out along the way

In any case he didn't have time to waste just sitting around here. Carefully bundling the papers to avoid spotting or damage, Cid walked toward the exit of his house. At the doorway he surveyed his surroundings. The few furnishings and possessions were put away and secured for his departure, and no perishable foods were left in the house. Of course, it was unlikely that he'd ever come back to this house…

The door slammed shut behind Cid as he headed into the busy street outside.

* * *

AN: YES! Olan is going to be VERY important to this story…though I don't think I had him planned to have an active role 

Hmmm...Short…. oh well

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